“Why?”
“Because, Daya”—I tuck the safety pin through the gauze—“I’m having very unfatherly thoughts at the moment.”
“Like what?”
I tip my head back to meet her stare. “Like how I’d like to touch youeverywhere.”
Her throat dips. “I have question.”
I sit back on my heels, spinning the gauze bobbin between my fingers to keep them at bay.
“Do I look like old Zendaya?”
“Identical.”
“Except hair, eyes, and forehead.” She pokes at the pearl.
“Yes. And scars. You got those when you became a serpent.”
“So, skin was more pretty before?”
“No. Your skin is fucking beautiful now.” As I stand, I smooth my fingers over the bandage, then allow them to drift higher, over the marked indent of her waist and the flared ladder of herribs, before skimming them toward her spine. How I long to feel it bend like it would when she’d ride my dick. My balls tighten and my cock…it weeps for this new version of my mate. “Any lingering pain?”
When she shakes her head, I chuck the gauze aside, then wash my hands with soap that I end up scrubbing over my ugly face.
“Taytah angry that everyone see me?” she asks, winding the towel around herself.
“They would’ve eventually seen you, Daya. Besides, you’ve nothing to fear from any of them, for if they so much as caused your heart to beat out of rhythm, I’d kill them. And Lorcan would sanctify the killing since no one threatens a Crow’s mate.”
Her silence irks me. Is she thinking of that human the Cauldron foresaw her with? The mere thought of him has my innards cramping.
I will her to shatter the quiet. In her past life, she was so vocal and vibrant. Full of confidence and laughter. Mórrígan, how she could laugh. It would roll over the old stones of this castle and illuminate the dimmest hearts, especially mine. Always mine.
“Is Fallon angry I ruin nuptials?”
“You didn’t ruin anything. Besides, like your grandmother said, the ceremony was all for show.”
“Do Crows no marry?”
“We do.”
“Before, we…marry?”
“No. We were in the middle of a war. Marriage wasn’t exactly on our minds. Besides, we were mates with a child on the way.” After toweling my face dry, I grab the block of charcoal and baste my fingers before painting fresh stripes. “We didn’t need to prove we were together by exchanging vows in front of a crowd. In our case, the only thing marriage would’ve changed was my status, since you were slated to inherit the Shabbin throne.”
She watches my blackened fingers drag from the shattered bridge of my nose to my throbbing temples. “Kanti want crown.”
“She may want it, but it’s still yours by birthright.”
“Do you want crown, Cathal?”
Slowly, I turn and lean back. “I’ve never cared about crowns. The only thing I’ve ever given a damn about is my family.”
I don’t clarify who my family consists of, worried she may feel pressured to feel a certain way toward me since I still consider her my mate.
“Where you go?”
I frown. “I’m not going anywhere.”
